Odd Occurences
by RainbowsMakeMeSmile
Summary: Sam and Dean stop in a small town diner after a hunt where they meet a cute, mysterious little waiter. And everything just gets weirder from there. AU, HP/SPN, SLASH, Pairings undecided,Adorable!Harry, Teddy, Good!Crowley, Non-majic?
1. Chapter 1

A recently washed black and orange impala pulled up to the the cozy, small town diner. Just washed because _someone _had insisted on going to the car wash before they could get food, because "His baby couldn't be seen like that!"

The engine idled for a moment before two tall, rather imposing men stepped out of the sleek vehicle, making their way to the front entrance of the building. The shorter of the two - though only by a couple of inches - reached the door first, pulling it open and strutting inside, not even bothering to make sure his companion caught the door before he let go of it. Said companion - whom had longer, shaggier hair, though of a similar color - didn't seem at all phased at this, as if it were a regular occurrence. Which, with these two, it probably was.

They headed straight towards the back corner of the diner, close to the kitchen door where they could most easily view the rest of the restaurant and it's inhabitants. The stockier and older one - Dean - sat with his back to the wall, while Sam - the younger - sat sideways in the opposite booth, one of his long legs coming up to stretch out along the seat of the bench.

"God, I am starving!" Dean exclaimed, reaching for one of the menus that were conveniently placed at the end of the table closest to the wall. He glanced over the lunch and dinner sections quickly, before loosing interest and going to the back to search for the pie section.

Sam rolled his eyes, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the diner. "Well, if you hadn't insisted on getting your prescious baby washed first we would have been eating much sooner," He said irritably, also quite hungry. Dean ignored his comment, seeming to get more and more frantic in his perusal of the menu. Sam raised an eyebrow, slightly bewildered as to what was wrong with his brother now, and had just opened his mouth to ask him such when a pretty young waitress stepped up to their table. At least he thought it was a pretty young waitress. Upon closer inspection he realized that their supposed waitress was, in fact, a pretty young wait_er._

He once again raised an eyebrow, this time at the boy's clothing. Instead of the usual pink and white poodle skirt that the other servers were wearing - all female from the looks of it - he had on a pair of white _bermuda shorts _of all things, a form fitting white short sleeved button down, as well as a purposely baggy, baby pink, loosely knitted, button up cardigan. His jet black hair seemed to not be able to decide wether it wanted to be curly or wavy, resulting in a strange but cute mix of both, and was cut into a bob that came just past his rounded jaw line with straight, blunt bangs covering his forehead. Wide green eyes stared at them in a pleasant, though mostly disinterested sort of way, holding a note pad and pen at the ready.

"Hello, welcome to Danny's Diner. My names Jamie and I'll be your server this afternoon. Is there anything I can get you gentlemen to drink?" Sam blinked at the soft British accent as well as the boys name. God, even his name was androgynous.

Dean looked up, his gazed slightly panic stricken as he spoke heatedly, "Do you not have pie?" His voice was slightly louder than it should have been and drew the attention of several of the patrons in the restaurant but not overly much. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, quite used to them, although still slightly embarrassed. The boy - Jamie, he recalled - wasn't phased at this outburst though, seemingly used to such things as he pointed toward two large black boards situated on the back wall. Both were filled with colorful writing and artistic drawings, one with the specials for the week, the other displaying nearly every type of pie that Dean Winchester could possibly think of.

Jamie smirked slightly in amusement at Deans bug eyed, gobsmacked expression, before it flitted away just as quickly, returning to his pleasantly disinterested facade. "So, drinks?" He questioned mildly.

At this point Dean had come out of his brief stupor and had moved on to examining the boy's attire skeptically. Sam tactfully ordered cokes for the both of them before his brother could open his big mouth and offend the kid before they'd even placed their orders in. "Okay, coming right up," he smiled sweetly, turning to go into the back. As he was walking away Sam noticed he wore the same white keds as all the other waitress' in the room, somehow surprising him once again with the somewhat feminine tendencies that the young boy had. Dean, on the other hand, was noticing how nice those shorts made his ass look as he walked away, before realizing that the boy couldn't possibly be older than fourteen, sixteen at the most, and any ideas of hitting on the cute waiter flew out the window.

"Was that a guy?" Dean questioned a bit conspiratorially.

"Mm-hm," Sam replied, brow slightly furrowed. Didn't these places have some sort of policy about only hiring women as servers, or something?

Dean was apparently thinking along the same lines as him, because when Jamie came back with their drinks - holding the glasses in one hand with practiced ease as he placed a couple of napkins on the table before setting the drinks on top of those - he blurted out rather bluntly, "No offence dude, but don't these places normally have some kind of rule about only hiring women?" Well, no one had ever accused him of being subtle.

Jamie's eyes widened slightly in surprise though not appearing overly offended at the question, and taking it in stride. "Well, we don't actually have a policy; that'd be discrimination, but most males tend to avoid applying here considering the required uniform is," he glanced distastefully at his long sleeved cardigan,"pink." He finished with a slightly disgusted crinkle of his nose.

Sam furrowed his brow,"Then why are you...?" He trailed off not sure how to phrase his question with out sounding rude. Thankfully Jamie seemed to have gotten the gist of what he was trying to say because he smiled understandingly, making a vague gesture toward the window behind the counter where they could see an overly muscled, bald, black man who seemed to be cooking while simultaneously doing some sort of funky moon walk and mouthing the words to whatever music he was listening to back there. Dean raised an eyebrow, lips quirking, wondering if that really was Michelle Branch he could hear faintly in the background.

"I'm actually a cook. A couple of our girls called in sick today so we're a little bit short handed. I got roped into helping out the twins run the tables while the others are gone." The two Winchesters nodded in understanding. That made a bit more sense.

"So have you decided what you'd like to order or will you be needing a few more minutes?" Jamie asked professionally, pulling his notepad from his back pocket. Dean promptly order the greasiest, most unhealthy thing on the menu while Sam attempted to go with a slightly more nutritional meal, though probably not by much knowing these places. Jamie took the order with a smile, moving perkily through the swing door into the kitchen. Sam shook his head as he looked over at Dean who was once again obsessing over the variety of pie choices and which one he was going to try first.

* * *

Jamie moved through the swing door that lead to the kitchen, humming along to the music as it played. He moved to the window that looked out at the rest of the diner, standing on tip toes to clip the order onto the spinning wheel for Raymond before moving to the back to continue kneeding the dough that he'd been working on previously.

"So what's with the new faces Jay-Jay?" Raymond's deep voice rumbled from across the counter behind him. Jamie looked over his shoulder, smiling in fond amusement at the sight of the large man still shaking his thang as he flipped patties with ease.

The smaller boy shrugged, turning back to his dough - now separating it into more manageable mounds. "Just a couple of guys passing through, I guess." He snatched up his roller, making quick work of it into a thin but sturdy sheet. Carefully, he layed it across a pie sheet and began to press it into the crevices along the sides.

"Hn," Raymond grunted, somewhat disappointed. Him and the girls had been trying to set the little Jay Bird up for months but to no avail. They lived in such a small town with such limited options that it was difficult to set anything up that would have any sort of substantial meaning considering most of the fresh meat that came around were just men passing through for some reason or another. A smirk curled his lips as he glanced over at Jamie, seeing him working on his desserts, as usual.

"So what's their story?" He asked in amusement.

The brunette chuckled softly a mischievous smile crossing his face. "Well," He began, not pausing in his work, his hand working smoothly and dilligently. "The shorter one is actually an undercover FBI agent investigating a string of drug related murders that the other guy is supposedly a part of."

Raymond chuckled, flipping a couple of the patties off the grill and onto a bun with fixings and fries already to the side. He put it up on the counter and rung the bell calling out a quick "Order up!" before turning back to Jamie. "And how's that going for him so far?" He asked, his tone belaying his mirth.

Jamie sighed in mock despondence as he began to add the homemade cherry filling on top of the crust, cautious not to spill any. "Unfortunately, not to well. You see what he doesn't know is that the whole assignment is just a rues, and that the other guy out there whom he thinks is a part of this 'gang' is actually an assassin hired by some higher ups in the government who want him 'taken care of' since he saw something last spring that he wasn't supposed to."

By this time, the large dark skinned man's shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter as he put the finishing touches to the orders of the customers that they happened to be currently speaking of. He was used to Jamie's wild imagination but it still never failed to be a source of endless comedy. They did this often, picking random out-of-towners and giving them background stories. They had to keep themselves entertained somehow, what with being in the kitchen most of the day and all. "Here's your table's order, Jay Bird. Better get it to 'em before they get assassinated or something," his voice shook with his chest as he continued chuckle, holding the plates out to the small young man.

Jamie set the layer of dough he was shaping to use as the top layer of the pie down, rinsing his hands briefly, and grabbing the mens' orders while sweeping out the door backwards in one smooth movement. He kept the plates carefully balanced on both his palms and forearms so as to not drop them, occasionally using his finger tips for leverage if they started to wobble. The two men - he didn't know their names - watched him curiously as he glided up to their table, depositing their food in a swift, effortless sweep. "Here you are," He chirped. He rocked back on his heels, standing up straight and about to ask if there was anything else he could do for them when the stockier of them spoke.

"Ya know..." He started pensively. "For someone who isn't actually a waiter, you sure seem to know what you're doing." Jamie blinked, not expecting that sort of response or notice from a passing customer such as him.

"Oh..ah.." The brunette stuttered, unsure of how to respond. "I guess with cooking and serving food to my relatives for so many years, it just sort of comes naturally." A soft blush bloomed across his cheeks, uncomfortable and unused to talking about his _family _with complete strangers. He doubted it would matter to them though, most people didn't have problems with openly talking about the people that they grew up with. The man nodded, as if that made sense of everything while turning to his plate.

"One more question," He enunciated decisively, once again not giving Jamie the chance to ask them if they needed anything else. He pointed at the boy's torso, eyes scrutinizing. "What's with the pink sweater-" _cardigan _the other man hissed from across the table "-cardi-whatzit that you're wearing?"

The slight boy tilted his head, admittedly somewhat like a kitten, confused as to what he meant. "I had to wear something the color of the uniform," His voice was hesitant, hadn't he explained this already?

The short hair man shook his head emphatically, absently popping a french fry in his mouth. "No, I mean why do you _own _it?" He explained, eyeing the soft color rather apprehensively as if afraid that it was going to jump out and attack him at any given second.

That startled a laugh out of the cook-cum-waiter, realizing what he was referring to. It would be unusual if he had something of this color after so blatantly expressing his disgust for it when he had first talked with them. "No, no, no," He waved a hand as if to ward off their assumptions, causing the long sleeves to slide down till they were almost covering his fingertips. "This isn't mine," he plucked at the front of the soft material, as if to reaffirm his statement. "I had to raid my roommates closet in order to find some thing the right color. She's one of the girls who had to call in sick today, but I couldn't very well wear her _uniform, _and this is the least girlie thing I could find that was acceptable." He elaborated, straight white teeth flashing in a sheepish smile.

The fact that he was wearing his girl friend's clothes wasn't what caught Sam's attention though. He was more focused on the part where this kid implied that he lived, essentially, alone. "Roommate?" He voiced his thoughts, giving the boy a Look. "How old are you?" Surely this kid couldn't be old enough to live on his own?

Jamie adopted a resigned expression, his shoulders slumping as he asked them instead, how old they thought he was. The brothers exchanged a confused glance, wondering if he really was older than they'd assumed before Dean answered with his usual bluntness, "Fourteen."

The boy let out a drawn out 'Whhhhhyyyy?' looking up at the ceiling as if asking God for the answer to his question. He sighed in a much aggrieved sort of way, a bittersweet twist to his lips."I'm twenty-three," He stated just as Dean had chomped down on another fry, subsequently causing him to choke.

"You're joking," The older brother rasped out once he'd gotten his breath back, both of the Winchesters goggling at the boy - no, man - in disbelief.

"I guess I should be thankful," Jamie sighed,"Last time it was twelve." He had long come to term with the fact that he had a 'baby face' as Eloise liked to say, and that he would be perpetually mistaken for years younger than he actually was.

Quickly now, before they could interrogate him any further and his pie was spoiled, he asked if there was anything else he could do for them. Both replied that they were fine for now, but the one who looked to be a few years older informed him that he would definitely be wanting some pie later on. Jamie nodded agreeably, saying he'd be back when they needed him and returning to his kitchens.


	2. Chapter II

A/N: All new author's notes will be on my profile page. Please check there, so you can see the thank you to all those who reviewed!

* * *

Dean sucked on an ice cube contemplatively as he gazed blankly across the table. Opposite him, Sam continued to silently count the seconds until his brother would finally blink, and realize that the elderly woman whom he'd been inadvertently staring at for the past ten minutes was clutching her purse particularly tightly and was shooting them shifty glances every few seconds, as if contemplating whether or not she could chuck her tote hard enough to stun her pseudo-stalker and make a quick getaway.

Just as Sam was about to kick Dean under the table – as the woman was starting to look a bit frantic – a slight squealing of tires was heard and a blurry yellow cheese log entered the older man's line of vision. Then he blinked and a school bus came into focus. An eyebrow rose incredulously – what was a school bus doing at a diner? – and Sam turned in the direction that Dean was looking just in time to see a small, exceedingly colorful, shape come bounding down the steps. A young, high voice called out a goodbye before _skipping_ through the front door in a flurrying rainbow. "Pop!" He – for they could now tell it was a little boy, probably about six years of age – shrilled.

No one seemed to find this odd; most didn't even look up, though a few did cringe at the boy's pitch. As Sam examined the child he had to wonder if there was something going on in this town or if they really did just attract all the weirdoes. Neither Winchester was sure if they'd ever seen more color on one person before. The kid wore _highlighter yellow_ Capri pants; numerous pockets bulging with God only knew what. His t-shirt was a multitude of colors and designs, the boldest of which consisted of a large, tie-dyed wolf howling across the side and front. Deep blue gloves covered his hands up to his wrists, but for the first knuckle on the thumb of his left hand. Mismatched socks clad his feet, one green, one orange, and both equally eye gouging in their intensity. There were no shoes to be found on his person, and one had to wonder where they could have gotten off to.

The swing door that lead to the back of the restaurant pushed open to reveal Jamie wiping his hands off on a clean but well used dish rag, adorning an indulgent, exasperated expression. "Teddy," He chided, giving the child a Look, clearly in response to his sharp cry.

Teddy clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes wide and way too beguiling to be innocent; a look that Jamie knew well. "I'm here!" The boy chirped, much more quietly than before.

Arms crossed loosely over his chest, the short brunette rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep up the disapproving façade. From the cheeky grin that pulled at the corners of the boys lips, he wasn't fooling anyone.

Suddenly, the child's head turned sharply in their direction, gaze meeting both of the brothers' with frightening ease for one so young, before looking through narrowed eyes up at Jamie. "Who are they?" The young cook's expression was one of bewilderment as he peered in the direction his godson was pointing. Recognition passed over his face but before he could open his mouth Teddy had beat him to it and was speaking once more, this time directly to the Winchesters. "You're in my spot," He stated, somewhat petulantly.

His eyes were different colors, Dean noted absently as that unnerving stare was pinned on him. One green and one amber.

"Theodore!" Jamie's voice rang out sharply. His hands were planted firmly on his hips, and weight shifted more to one side than the other in a pose so similar to his Aunt Molly that Teddy actually cringed. He peered sheepishly up through his lashes, and Dean snickered at his attempted placation. "Apologize, this instant."

The boy widened his eyes imploringly. "But they _are_ in my spot!" He glared at the two balefully. "I _always _sit here!"

His father's glare hardened and Teddy huffed a sigh of resignation. "Fine," he grumbled quietly. Facing the Winchesters fully now, the child's glare had dissipated but the petulant expression still remained. "I'm sorry for being rude to you," a throat clearing pointedly from behind him prompted him to add, "And for talking about you as if you weren't there. I know how much that sucks." By the end of his small speech his tone had become a bit more sincere and Jamie's glare had softened.

Sam and Dean were both smirking at the display, their amusement obvious. "No problem little man," The elder accepted easily. Hey, he was pretty sure both he and Sammy had been worse at that age anyway.

"You can sit here too, if you'd like," Sam offered, giving the child an indulgent smile. Teddy beamed brightly back, already moving to put his backpack on the table next the younger brother.

"Oh – no," Jamie protested before the kid could climb up next to this stranger. He placed his hand on his son's head, lightly smoothing at the tawny strands that shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the windows. "He'll be fine sitting someplace else for once; he needs some variety anyway." At this Teddy called out weakly, "No, I don't!" but was ignored. "He's just used to being close to the kitchen on days when I have to work late," Jamie's smile was still apologetic, but he had a mischievous gleam in his eyes when his son continued to pout.

Dean snickered, addressing the man. "No really, it's okay if he wants to sit here – we did take his spot after all." The later part of the statement was aimed more towards the kid, causing the boy to smile hopefully. When the smaller man still looked hesitant Teddy decided it was time to up the ante. Turning back to his father he gave him his big, sad, puppy dogs eyes and waited for Jamie to give in.

One minute, fifty-three seconds, and a staring contest later – which he lost, unfortunately – the brunette finally groaned in defeat. "Fine!" he threw his hands in the air exasperatedly. "Fine," he said more sedately. "But-" his tone was sharp as he pointed a slim finger at the Winchesters. "-if either one of you even _think_ about hurting or touching or kidnapping my baby I will hunt you down and carve out your eye balls with a dull, rusty spoon. Got it?" His tone was frighteningly serious, and Dean wasn't sure whether he should laugh or not.

Sam, however, just nodded politely, as if a threat of maiming and dismemberment was a perfectly acceptable way to address someone. With their track record he really should be used to it by now anyway.

Teddy scrambled up onto the booth beside the taller man, ignoring his dad's muttered 'I'll be watching' as he stalked away. "I'm Teddy, what're your names?" The boy questioned while pulling out a coloring book and some crayons. He pulled out an orange one – 'Tangerine'– and started to fill in a color page of a penguin. He hummed tunelessly under his breath – a habit he'd picked up from Jamie.

"I'm Sam," The younger spoke up, motioning toward himself and then across the table. "And this is my brother Dean." The little boy nodded, barely glancing up in acknowledgement.

Dean cleared his throat to catch the six year old's attention, asking, "So Jamie's your dad?" It was hard to believe that the man that they'd previously thought was barely out of his pre-teens actually had a kid. He just seemed _so young._

Teddy narrowed his eyes at the strange man diagonal to him, asking about his pops. "Yeah," he drawled surprisingly well. "Why?" He demanded. He remembered what Grandda' had told him about strangers who asked weird questions. Especially when it came to his pop.

"Just wondering," Dean shrugged. What was the kid so suspicious for?

Teddy "Hn," –ed, giving him the stink eye, but eventually went back to his coloring. Trying to draw the attention off of his brother Sam jumped in with, "How old are you, Teddy?" his tone light and casual.

The blond's crayon halted and he lifted his head. "I'm six," he deadpanned, much like Jamie had earlier. Teddy's eyes had lit up with recognition while somehow simultaneously dimming into a flat stare. "I'm adopted," he stated abruptly, startling the brothers with his bluntness. Mismatched eyes circled heavenward and his sigh expressed all the exasperation a six year old could possess. "That's why you're asking, right? Cause Pop looks so young, and everyone's always saying how having a kid so early is too much of a burden and asking about where my mom is and all that other stuff?" Neither of the men were sure of how to respond, not expecting that sort of answer. Teddy didn't deign to wait for a response, instead matter-of-factly saying, "Well, I'm adopted."

"Care to elaborate?" Dean questioned with his usual tact. Sam was worried that the kid might clam up at that and was about to say something reprimanding at Dean, but Teddy wasn't fazed. He seemed used to this line of interrogation, causing Sam to wonder how many times people had asked him about this.

The blond continued with his work, not even pausing to face them while he spoke. "Pop was named as my godfather when I was born. My parents were friends with his parents when they were in school, so they went way back." His blue clad hands never faltered, moving smoothly over the page. "I was three months old when the bad men came. Pop and Grandda' won't tell me everything that happened; just that these really mean people came in the middle of the night, and that now my mom and dad are in Heaven." At least that's what he was allowed to say in public. Grandda' always said that people wouldn't believe the true story; that they didn't _want_ to believe. "I was supposed to go to Pop but he was only seventeen then." Here he looked up, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. "That's really old, but Pop says that it's still not old enough to have a kid, 'cause the law says so. When I ask why, he just says he'll tell me when I'm older," The boy's bottom lip jutted out in a pout, but disappeared as he continued his story. "I had to go to a foster home for a while, but Pop won't tell me about it. Grandda' says it wasn't a good time for him; that he was really, really sad all the time. It took a long time and Grandda' had to pull a lot of strings and agree to be co-guardian with Pop but eventually they were allowed to adopt me." Teddy shrugged in a sort of 'what can you do?' way. He had a soft smile on his lips as he said, "I've been with them ever since."

Silence reigned, the brothers both picking at what remained of their food – contemplating the information they'd just been given – and Teddy had finally finishing up his color sheet. He examined it for a moment, criticizing, before smiling in satisfaction.

Just then, a loud 'CLANG' was heard from the kitchen along with a series of expletives. A booming laugh followed, and then another crash. Beside them, Teddy giggled, drawing their attention. "Pop must've messed up a pie again," he whispered conspiratorially. Dean's eyes blew wide and Sam let out a drawn out groan.

"Pie?" The eldest brother's tone held excitement – perhaps too much – and his grin was infectious.

Teddy could feel the corners of his mouth curling upwards, and he giggled once again. "Yeah, he mostly makes the desserts and stuff here, but pie is his favorite. He's always trying out new recipes. But he's really clumsy, so he drops stuff a lot. And he forgets about oven mitts for some reason, so…" He paused, his lips quirked. "Grandda' gets onto him about that all the time."

Sam smiled at the little boy's mirth, but Dean was still too caught up in the fact that the cute little waiter – whom he now knew was _not, _in fact, barely out of his pre-teens – had also made all of those delicious looking pies up on that black board over there. And he frequently made new recipes that he'd need a tester for.

Just then, the kitchen door swung open and out stepped Jamie with a spattering of crimson along the sleeves of his cardigan. In his hands he held three plates, which he sat on the end of their table. "Dessert anyone?" He smiled brightly, chuckling when both Teddy and Dean responded enthusiastically. He slid a piece of blue berry in front of the boy, while handing Sam a slice of apple. To Dean he gave a cut of fresh cherry, Cool Whip – because that canned crap just doesn't cut it – melting along the sides.

Dean didn't even bother to say thank you, immediately sinking his teeth into the first bite. As the sweet, thick filling and the soft, flaky crust melted on his tongue, the elder Winchester couldn't contain his moan of delight. It was like a little piece of Heaven in a delicious, fruit filled package.

When he came out of his pie induced haze it was to the sight of both Teddy and Jamie giggling at him, and Sam looking as if he couldn't decide between being embarrassed or amused at his siblings behavior.

As Dean watched Jamie bend over, clutching his stomach, he decided then and there that they'd be coming back through this town soon. He'd make sure of it.


End file.
